If You Saw Me Now
by Crazy writter
Summary: "Marisol?" Horatio called out to the empty room. " It wasn't suppose to be this way, love. We were suppose to be happy" He bowed his head and let his pain over take his entire body. Shaking him to his core...Horatio wakes after dreaming of Marisol.
1. Chapter 1

Accompanied with Enrique Iglesias - Wish You Were Here (With Me)

Opening his eyes to the rising sun Horatio took a deep and shaky breath. Tugging at his sheets he clutched them to his chest. Grief choked his heart in a head lock. For the umpteenth time that week he'd dreamed of his young, beautiful wife.

They were at Casa Tua, just the two of them, toasting their expected pregnancy. Everything was perfect. The way it was meant to be. Then he woke, to find the place besides his void.

He loathed seeing the only other person who could occupy his bed missing.

_Funny how the years,  
they just pass us by  
Seems like yesterday,  
you were in my life  
You always wanted  
to started a family _

But he had to get on with his life. There was no point in dwelling in misery when there were so many people that needed him. So, as much as he hurt every morning he forced his body off the bed and took another sharp intake.

"Marisol?" Horatio called out to the empty room. " It wasn't suppose to be this way, love. We were suppose to be happy" He bowed his head and let his pain over take his entire body. Shaking him to his core.

Lately he'd been seeing her everywhere, just to come to realize he was going crazy. Without her, he was confused. He had drunk from the devils chalice. When she was with him he'd been beyond happy. Closer to holding the family he always wanted in his arms. But then the world turned its ugly back on him, like it had done many times before. Snatching her from his tight embrace.

These days his only purpose was in dragging the scum down.

His leading motivator, hate in being welcomed each day in pain, suffering and destruction in every corner.

If someone, unable to protect themselves, were in danger he would strike their attacker down. Unafraid of killing them in the process. Unafraid of going to jail.

He had nothing to lose.

_I was way too young  
I was runnin' free  
If only you could see me now _

He knew if Marisol saw him today she wouldn't recognize him. He wasn't the same man. But he couldn't extinguish his burning anguish. Control had slipped through his fingers the moment she left him.

Now all he thought of when he arrived home were their stolen future. The laughter of children that would never bounce off the walls of his home.

"I need you, Marisol. Now more than ever." He said between heart tugging breaths. "There's so much people expect from me...I-I" Opening and closing his mouth frustrated, Horatio finally allowed his confession to pass his thin lips "I don't know what to do anymore. I-I'm...I'm lost, love, I'm mad. I'm angry at the world!" Grinding his teeth his crystal blues misted. "If you saw me now you'd realize I'm not the same man you fell in love with, Mari. I'm sorry." Cupping his face he chuckled into his palms. If he could cry for her instead of laugh he would, but he found he couldn't shed a single tear. As much as he wanted to he just couldn't. He'd become an empty shell of a man. "Oh, God I wish you were here with me, Marisol."

_You died in me  
I should have saved you  
Ooooh...  
__Wish you were here with me  
I thought I knew it all  
how stupid could I be  
I think of what I had  
and it makes me weep _

Horatio held his breath still, afraid if he allowed a single sigh to escape he'd do something stupid. As if he hadn't attempted to simply sleep away to be at her side. He once even thought of using his own gun against himself to leave his hell behind. But then he thought of her. Knowing she'd weep in seeing him devastated and dead inside because of her. He also knew she could never forgive herself nor would she forgive herself if he pulled the trigger, ending his life.

Before she came into his life he thought he knew everything, but he was damned guilty of the opposite. He knew nothing. Only the hate of everyday life. A habit he fell back into after her death.

_How stupid could I have been? _He thought.

From the very moment they met he knew he'd marry her. Understood she'd been sent to save him. To open his eyes to the world. To be the one to say there's so much more to life than death, love.

Yes, though she'd been sick she didn't allow her disease to claim her life. She had enjoyed herself to the fullest. In the process she taught him about life; the joys, the pleasure. The simple beauty of dreams and desires. Taught him how to laugh at his mistakes. At his faults. How to have fun. She had given herself so freely to him, body and spirit, and he cherished her for it. However, falling deeply mad in love with her left him with the searing agony of remembering her. But pain would not stop him from loving her, from thinking of her. He'd go on remembering till he took his last shallow breath.

_You died in me,  
I should have saved you  
You gave yourself  
Why did you give  
yourself to me?_

Thus he stood and faced his fate. Without the person who he loved more than life itself.

_Ooh..Ooh...Ooh...  
Wish you were  
here with me...  
I miss you... _


	2. Chapter 2

The day's work had been hectic. Horatio was not only feeling physical but mentally exhausted. The day had been marked by two shootings - a drive by at a high end restaurant and a death threat on Walter (Walter was seeing a girl whose ex was still reeling from the breakup. It didn't help that the ex was a drug dealer and a newly released convict). At the end, the team was only able to solve one of the shootings, Walters. It was good but not great.

The second shooting claimed eight dinners at a high-end restaurant, but a couple's death had especially hit close to Horatio's heart.

The young lovebirds – the man was in his early thirties, and the woman was just entering her thirties – were celebrating not only their third year anniversary but his cancer remission. He had been diagnosed with lung cancer at twenty-eight, he felt mad. He had barely graduated from law school and now his life was about to end. In his eyes, it just wasn't fare. Feeling hopeless and broken, he never imagined he would meet the woman of his dreams at deaths door. But that is what happened. She was a nurse at the hospice he was living. Despite his grave condition, they had fallen in love. From then on, they were inseparable. She couldn't bring herself to leave his bedside for long. Gradually his cancer resided, and they planned to wed.

Against all odds, and everyone's objections, they married – the woman's mother never tired of telling her daughter to find a sure thing, a man who would be present and who wasn't fighting for life itself.

So was Horatio and Marisol's story. Despite Horatio's head and heart telling him not to fall in love with someone who could be snatched away from him at any moment – he had too many dead loved ones too many - he couldn't help himself fall deeply in love for Marisol.

Theirs was true-fairy tale.

So once Horatio got home, he kicked off his shoes, undid his tie, brewed himself a cup of coffee and walked out to his back patio with the slain couple's report. He needed to solve the crime if he planned on living a productive life. If he didn't solve it, it would eat at him until he caught the murderers.

Sitting down at his usual seat (the decks second step) he began reading the report while listening to the distant ocean lap at the shore line.

It read like a true mystery book. The witness, who was sitting near the exit, reported she heard a commotion near the cash register, a man and his eighteen year-old son argue over who would pay the bill. She claimed it was nothing more than friendly. Then she saw the boy slump into his father's grasp as he was taking out his wallet, few seconds she heard several shots ring out. The reason she was still alive and not dead was because of what she saw, she said.

Horatio had a vague suspicion she knew more. He couldn't pin-point exactly what was wrong with her story, but he knew she had to be a part of the shooting. He checked into her background and found nothing that incriminated her – there was no prior arrest warrants, no sketchy past, no connection to the boy or the father, and no criminal history. But something kept bugging Horatio about the woman. She didn't seem disturbed, and more daunting she was alive while everyone in her vicinity was not. Even her friend dinning with her had been killed.

The whole case frustrated Horatio, it was making his head ache.

As Horatio looked up to stretch his neck and clear his mind, he noticed a shooting star and whimsical thought crossed his mind. He wished Marisol was still with him so he wouldn't feel so helpless. She always knew how to calm his frustration after a hard day's work.

He let out a chuckle then sighed. He was losing his mind. He needed to occupy his time with other worthwhile pursuits. His life couldn't revolve around crime; it wasn't healthy for both his emotional and mental health. But he was scared, and despite everyone's belief in his strength and unwavering courage he did possess weaknesses, just like everyone else. Except his would be the end of him. If he lost another person he wouldn't be able to survive their death. He said so much to Eric. But of course Eric couldn't hear him. He was clinging to life while Horatio confessed his fear.

Therefore, his only option was to stretch and re-focus his attention back on the crime report. Just as he was to do so, a loud bang broke the silence. It came from inside his house.

Being a trained officer, he knew what had to be done.

He drew his gun, very quietly stood and proceeded to enter his house. Tip-toeing further, he noticed everything was in order. It was quiet and shaded. There was nothing out of place in his large teal, white trimmed living room. The same singer's voice rang from the speakers. The couches were empty, there was no one hiding behind them. Everything was just as he left it. Marisol's beautiful face still decorated the walls - he never could convince himself to put them away. They were a painful part of his past, but it also double as a strong rock for his empty life.

From his living room - the kitchen was an open space connected to both opened dining and living room - he noticed with relief it was also okay. What he didn't see from his vantage point, everything was not as he left it. In the sink lay another dirty plate besides his. And the coffee machines clock had jumped forward to seven at night, though outside it clearly was nearing five.

As he walked into the long hallway, at the end, he noticed light sweeping out from underneath the bathrooms closed door. Stealthily he approached, entered his bedroom to his right and... as was he dialing Eric for backup, the bathrooms door opened.

Horatio put his phone away and waited for the person to pass his room enough to be at an advantage behind said intruder. As the person passed by, Horatio came out and pointed his gun at... Marisol's back.

"Marisol?!" Horatio caught himself whispering.


	3. Chapter 3

_As he walked into the long hallway, at the end, he noticed light sweeping out from underneath the bathrooms closed door. Stealthily he approached, entered his bedroom to his right and... as was he dialing Eric for backup, the bathrooms door opened._

_Horatio put his phone away and waited for the person to pass his room enough to be at an advantage behind said intruder. As the person passed by, Horatio came out and pointed his gun at... Marisol's back._

_"Marisol?!" Horatio caught himself whispering._

She turned to face him and a startled expression fell upon her face.

Horatio's heart pounded inside his rib-cage, and swore time froze.

This can't be happening, he thought sarcastically, I've finally lost my mind.

Still he couldn't help himself, he reached out to touch this 'illusion', this cruel joke, and was surprised to come in contact with warm living flesh. Despite his heart telling him to believe she was real, his mind forced itself to deny the beautiful reality. It was all too wonderful to be true. Nothing this great ever happened to him, not him. Ever!

He swallowed his joyous wonder "Is it really you?" He asked.

"Horatio, is everything alright?" Marisol said perplexed.

"Oh my God, Marisol let it be you and not another lonely mans delusion." Hot tears trickled down his weathered face. "I wouldn't be able to bear it, not this time."

"Baby, tell me what's wrong." She wanted to laugh, she never seen this side of him. He was always coherent, sound, never this illogical. That's why Horatio's current attitude was scaring her.

Leaning into her, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly against his chest. The simple act confirmed she indeed was made of flesh and blood, there was no hiding the warmth radiating from her now. "Nothings wrong, nothings wrong. I - I can't believe - you're really here?" He choked out.

"Where else would I be?" She humorously asked.

Marisol felt Horatio's whole body shake in anguish. Now she was altogether dumbfounded. This was certainly not her Horatio.

"I've finally gone mad and I don't care," He confessed, "because you're here with me."

"I wouldn't leave you." She said, gently pulling away from his embrace she stared into her lovers eyes and immediately her heart fell, despair enslaved his blue depths. " You can't get rid of me, love."

She would never understand how that sentence was the bane of his existence, the poison which slowly killed his very nature. Her death had burned the last link to his heart. It didn't help she was etched into his memory. But since she had come back to him - didn't matter to him how, or if he'd finally gone bonkers - he was never letting her go.

"What's wrong?"

He couldn't answer her, he didn't know how to form the words to begin to explain, he didn't quite understand it himself. He was simply ecstatic she returned to him after all these years. He felt like all the water drowning him finally receded, allowing him to breath the invigorating air at long last. It was pure, unbridled euphoria.

A wide grin broke on his face. Composing himself he held out his hand to her, she took it without hesitation and followed him into the dinning room.

They sat staring at each other for what seemed hours to Horatio, but which in reality was five minutes.

"Would you like something to eat?" He asked as he stood and headed into the kitchen.

"We just ate." She followed him into the kitchen.

"Right... Dessert?"

She felt him flinch as she laid her hand on his shoulder. "Horatio, look at me."

He complied and turned to her.

"What's wrong?" She implored. "Tell me."

She grew more concerned with his each uncharacteristic action. Marisol perceived he was holding back, but she didn't know why or from what. This hidden something had to be brought out. She had to help him.

"There's nothing to worry about, simply the days work."

"Another kid?"

"A couple."

"Oh, sit down and tell me what happened. I'll get the dessert."

"No it's fine, I'll get it, really."

"Horatio sit down and relax, you're home."

"Okay, Love."

Horatio awkwardly walked back into the dinning room and sat down. But his vision remained glued on her, he did not dare look away. Not that he could look away.

Few seconds later Marisol returned with two plates of devils cake and sat next to Horatio.

"Thank you." Horatio said as he took a plate. "The case hit too close to home."

"How?"

"It reminded me of us."

"I can see how that'd effect you, Horatio. But they're not us." She said.

"No you're right. They're not." He toyed with his cake, pushing it from one side of his plate to the other. If he told her the truth why he was disturbed by the case, she wouldn't understand. Or if he could explain why this whole scene was wrong, why she shouldn't be sitting with him, and why the simple act of her staring at him with those bright eyes of hers was impossible, she would question how and when she died, maybe even deny the whole accident. What if she did accept she died six years ago, what would that do to her? Would she break down, feel lost, confused and terrified? He couldn't cause her trauma, not after what she already gone through. No, he couldn't bring himself to cause her irreparable damage. He was going to keep his mouth shut and be happy.

"It's sad is all, from what they had to go through to be happy just to have it all yanked away from them. I can't begin to imagine how that must feel." Horatio told her. "And worse, he died holding her. She'd been killed first then him, he bled to death. We were too late to save him. We tried but we couldn't. It makes me so mad, they had so much to live for, then a mad man comes and steals it from them. It's not fair, it's not right. He'd been in remission for three years and then this, and then he had to watch his wife die in his arms? It's just not... fair."

Marisol watched as his eyes glistened with anger and pain.

"Hadn't they gone through enough already? Didn't they deserve at bit of happiness, just a little bit?" His unwavering stare begged her to answer his question, to explain why horrible things happened. She couldn't. "And I can't solve this one, not this one, and I need to. I have to solve it!"

Taking his hand she stood. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Not everything is tragic in life, Horatio, there is much more to live for than looking for the bad and dwelling there."

Standing, Horatio followed Marisol into their bedroom and closed the door behind them. He hadn't been with another woman since Marisol's death, he was incapable of dirtying their bed by bringing another female into it. Their bed was a sacred place.

Turning to Marisol, he tentatively cupped her cheek and leaned in. His lips quivered as he anxiously closed the distance between them, Marisol noticed.

Her lips were as sweet and plump as he last remembered.

Leaning his head against Marisol's, Horatio held her close, savoring her warmth and lavender perfume. He craved her touch, it didn't have to be sexual as long as she held him he was safe. The world's icy touch couldn't reach him when she was with him.

His heart began pounding, and static joy and goose pimples ran up his body. It was a sorely missed sensation. To be in her arms was like the world resumed its rotation, its true meaning.

She ran her fingers through his hair and down his back, soothing his apparent anguish.

Letting her out of his embrace, he stared into her eyes. They held the same conviction for life, the exact will to fight for their love.

"I love you." He said, tracing out her face with his finger, burning her into his memory if she happened to vanish before his eyes.

She smiled. "I love you, too."

The first article shed was his suit. She slipped her manicured fingers between his beating heart and his dark Armani jacket.

"You're scared?" She said.

"No." He told her, it was true he wasn't scared. "I'm happy." To get the point across, he kissed her.

Slipping out of his jacket, he discarded the clothing on the seat beside their bed and helped her out of her dress. She was as beautiful as last he saw her, perhaps more so. Swallowing his excitement, he tentatively ran his fingertips on her stomach and in the valley of her heaving breast. Then back down to her white lace panties, letting his hand come to rest at her thigh.

"So beautiful." He said before lifting her onto his waist, she instinctively wrapped her legs around him.

Laying her gently on their bed, she took hold of his trousers and unzipped him. He held her gaze while she unbuttoned his shirt quickly there after.

He wore no white v-neck underneath his formal shirt, though wearing one was his custom.

His eyes laser focused on her bra, he needed to rid her of them. Slithering his fingers under her garment he squeezed her - her breath hitched - before sliding the bothersome thing down her chest.

His desire was mounting but he needed to be methodical. If he didn't restrict himself he'd ravish her, he wanted their joining to last.

Unfastening his hip holster, he placed his firearm away and proceeded to take his shirt off and toss it away, it landed near his jacket.

The caged heat between them was eating her alive. She couldn't endure any of his orderly movements any longer, sitting up she grazed her lips from his stomach to his lips, wrapped her slender arms around his neck and lured him to her, in a one swift enticing motion.

He had no clue how she did it, he just followed her wherever she led him.

They remained entwined in each others arms, staring into the others eyes before she went back to his trousers to pull them down.

The fresh cool air pricked at his skin, his mouth opened involuntarily and a small gasp escaped.

It was her hands that brought the best in him, brought out the sweet agonizing gasp and moans from his body.

A wicked grin flashed across her face as she ran her finger nails on his chest down to his copper wired navel till they landed right were they were aiming. In holding him in her hands, his neck strained and his eyes closed in bliss.

Quickly taking her hands captive, he stopped her examination and allowed himself a second to absorb everything. Which didn't mean there wasn't sweat already beading his body, a tiny stream ran down his back to pool at the small of his back.

Not being strong enough to stay away from the splendor she bestowed, he pecked her lips as he yanked her underwear off.

The outside world faded away from him, nothing else mattered but Marisol.

Staring into her eyes he entered her heavenly gates and was rewarded with a gasp from her quivering lips. He was finally home, there was no other place he'd rather be.

He held her close to his heart, more willing to let the moment last for eternity, but as always he couldn't deny his body it's rightful place.


	4. Chapter 4

A breeze swept through the open window, it was summer, with it came the smell of freshly mowed lawns and the sweet scent of flowers. If you asked Horatio he'd point out winter didn't seem much different from summer. But then again, he was a New Yorker born and bred. What he liked most about summer here in Miami was the local restaurants, which upped their menu once the tourist began pouring in. Yes, summer was hot and humid but he welcomed it even more so now then ever.

Because she lay next to him, naked and alive.

Therefore, he was happy beyond belief.

He stared at her, not daring to touch, she looked too angelic - her creamy flesh radiated with the morning after glow - to wake. He was content simply to stare at his Sleeping Beauty.

He stretched his arms and scooted closer attempting to close any gap that dare separate them.

Last night was magical, he didn't want her to fall asleep, he was too mesmerized by her eyes. He needed her to keep looking at him, to keep calling his name over and over until he was certain she was with him and not somewhere he'd could never be. He'd gone to the dark side and knew he'd never see her in heaven, because surely that is where she resided. He didn't see her going the opposite direction. No, not his Marisol, she was too good for the devils unyielding grip. But eventually the sandman came to dust them with sleep.

Horatio closed his eyes and replayed the night before.

Marisol's every action, gasp, moan and scream hit him like a fresh coffee shot. And he played their lovemaking like a broken record. Decoding each moment like his life depended upon it.

It was oh beautiful how she arched her back just for him, how she ran her fingers down his back as he dug himself deeper into her and how her lips devoured every inch she could of his flesh. Sucked, licked and kissed his body from waist to brow. And he too was eager to lose himself in her. He did every imaginable thing to her body. He held her close with gentle arms and kissed her with hungry lips. He was a docile beast. One moment as calm as a spring breeze, the next fierce and strong as the most vicious winter night. He yanked, pulled, grasped, pinned, bit and controlled. Her body was riddled with his possessive markings. Unfortunately.

He felt terrible but he couldn't help himself. He was a scared, angry broken man in need of repair.

One particular moment tore at him. She was staring into his eyes with a piercing gaze, her mouth agape in struggle for breath, when he lost it for the umpteenth time. He flipped her onto her stomach, pinned her hands to the headboard and drove himself into her. The most horrifying thing, however, was when her moans turned into screams, and in attempt to silence her he devoured her lips, swallowing her cries in the process.

He apologized profusely afterwards, all she said was, 'it's alright, my docile beast, I love you.'

And with that she fell asleep in his arms.

So lost was he in thought he didn't notice Marisol watching him with a quizzical look.

"What are you thinking?" She asked.

He startled. "Uh, what?"

"You were lost in thought, I think, you looked like it anyways."

"I was thinking about last night."

"It was something, wasn't it?" She said, smiling. "Who knew you had it in you, that drive."

His eyes left her to look at the swaying curtain, a crestfallen look claiming his weary features. "I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me." It was only then he dared glance at her, for just a split second, only to look at her chest. Trying to look anywhere but into her gaze.

"Horatio, look at me."

With great reluctance he followed her order, it was the right thing to do after all. He had to at least listen to her, even if he knew he shouldn't have allowed himself to lose control during sex.

He truly was his father's son. Just as possessive as he. Something he loathed above all.

"What did I say last night?"

"That it was alright, and that you loved me."

"Did I say anything during?"

"Many things." He replied, a smirk making a brief appearance. "None I'd care to repeat. I didn't know you had such vulgar vocabulary."

"Horatio, I'm trying to be serious."

"No, many things but nothing about what I shouldn't." His face fell again. "But still, I feel shouldn't have... have done what I did. I' sorry I was too rough. Must have really hurt you, you were screaming and I didn't care and I'm sorry for that. For everything." What he said next he didn't expect, it just came out. "For not being there, I should have done something, anything, it should have been me."

"What do you mean it should have been you." She inquired. "What should have been you?"

He was stuck, he didn't know how to fix what he had said. How was he suppose to break the news to her? Honey, you died five years ago since then I haven't been myself, I've become a walking, breathing corpse without regard to law or proper conduct. That's why I claimed your body in such a forceful and uncaring manner.

No, he couldn't say that. So, instead he said whatever came to mind.

"Only that I shouldn't have lost control. I became this wild monster without regard to how you might feel." He said. "Or if I hurt you. I'm sorry."

"Don't. Truth be told I loved it. Such passion." Her cheeks flushed, Horatio felt her body quiver, it was then he remember how close he was to her. "It was hot. I've never felt so alive. Not that I don't when we're together. It's just that it was different." She kissed him and ran her hand down the side of his face.

"Really?" He asked, as she drew him closer for another kiss.

"Mmmmhmmm" With her encouragement he lowered his lips to hers. "Maybe when you're done with work we can revisit this topic again."

"I'd love that."

A low guttural growl interrupted them.

"I think someone's hungry." Marisol observed. "I know this nice little restaurant we can eat at. There's even a outdoor section."

"Sounds nice." He replied before reluctantly tearing himself away to get dressed.

"I wish we could live here forever. Just the two of us."

"Me too but there's real creeps to put away."

"If only we lived in a better world."

"We'll manage."

"You always know the right things to say, huh?" She joked, she still lay on their bed observing Horatio's splendid form. Whoever said the male body wasn't as beautiful as a woman's must have been blind. To her, Horatio was living proof disputing such belief. She was happy to stare idly at her naked husband as he rummaged through his suits looking for the right match for today's mood.

"I just try to be realistic." He said as he took one of his suits and walked towards their bedrooms bathroom. "It's only right."

"You're a pessimist."

"No, dear, you have it all wrong, I'm a realist." He said over his shoulder as he entered their bathroom. " I've seen too much not to be."

She could never know how much those words rang true for Horatio. Now that she was with him he vowed to secure her safety, if that meant he would have to depart her side, rip out his heart and let her go, that's what he would do.

For her.

For them.

He would have to live content with the knowledge that Marisol was safe.

But until that time, he was going to cherish every second spent with her.

He was going to start off by spending breakfast at this nice restaurant eating pancakes and eggs with his wife.


End file.
